


The Way Things Work

by Elfstone



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Female Thorin, I haven't written fanfiction before so i really tried, I title stories like panic! at the disco titles songs, Mentions of Gandalf, This is collaboration with mymermaidstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfstone/pseuds/Elfstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began with a wizard.</p>
<p>Well, not exactly a wizard, that was just a play into whimsical fantasy from passing youth when Bilbo Baggins was just to his infamous mother’s knee, a wooden sword in hand as he played with the gray man who created brilliant lights in the air on his grandfather’s, the Old Took, birthday. The wandering wizard as young Bilbo had known him was one Gandalf Grey who enjoyed meddling with affairs not his own with great frequency, affairs such as now-grown Bilbo’s love life (or lack thereof).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way Things Work

**Author's Note:**

> I have never really written fanfiction before so I hope I did okay. This is sort of a relationship prequel to mymermaidstory's "Flutes and Fiddles" so just read both of these please, "Flutes and Fiddles" is extremely funny.

It all began with a wizard.

Well, not exactly a wizard, that was just a play into whimsical fantasy from passing youth when Bilbo Baggins was just to his infamous mother’s knee, a wooden sword in hand as he played with the gray man who created brilliant lights in the air on his grandfather’s, the Old Took, birthday. The wandering wizard as young Bilbo had known him was one Gandalf Grey who enjoyed meddling with affairs not his own with great frequency, affairs such as now-grown Bilbo’s love life (or lack thereof).   
She will be perfect for you, the old man had said, it just takes a little courage to get to know her.

Bilbo wanted to politely tell the man he had known since his birth to mind his own damn business and leave him alone but that was no way to treat the friend of his deceased, beloved mother. He may have been a predicable Baggins but he was also a Took, and with a dash of that Tookish daring he agreed to a blind date.

He found his way with ease to the restaurant of Gandalf’s choosing, one he had known blessedly, a fine, cozy eatery strangely named the Green Dragon. For the better half of an hour he waited for his date to arrive, a woman vaguely described to be very tall and dark-haired with a contrast of blue eyes, yet to his knowledge saw no sign of her until a pleasantly deep voice behind him asked,

“Are you Bilbo Baggins?”

Turning, Bilbo saw a vision before him. Gandalf should have had the decency to inform him that he had arranged a date with a mountain of a woman, a goddess (or an Amazon at least, were they not the tall female warriors of legend?). Her long black was tied in several braids then flowed free down her back, blue eyes clearer than a pool of water—Bilbo tried not to lose himself. Curse his writer’s mind. 

“Yes, I am, and you are Thraís?” He moved to shake her hand, perhaps pull her chair out for her like the manners drilled into his skull called for yet it was all for naught when she placed herself in the spot in front of him. She surveyed him with those sharp eyes of hers and opened her mouth only to say,

“You look more like a grocer than a writer.”

Well I never, he had the right to look affronted. He may have been a confirmed bachelor for most of his adult life but the first thing one says on a date is most certainly not an insult. Whenever he got his hands on that meddling wizard Bilbo was going to ring his neck.

“We don’t have to continue, you know, I did this only because a family friend doesn’t know how to mind his own damn business.” Bilbo was fully prepared to leave, perhaps so home to have a few drinks to drown his embarrassment and misery.

To his surprise, other than full heartedly agreeing and readying to get as far away from the Green Dragon as possible, she smiled.

“You too,” she asked. “The man just can’t help himself.”

Bilbo felt himself drawn in, then and there. He leaned forward, made himself comfortable, and ordered a round of drinks. Better here drinking with someone than home alone—misery loved company after all—but after hours of drinks, dinner, deserts, and complaining about Gandalf, this blind date didn’t seem all too bad.

“If a may ask,” he said after paying for their meal, “Why were you late?”

Thraís’ face was a bit flushed, a very pretty color if Bilbo indulged himself to think, from drinks and, as he would find out, embarrassment. 

“I got lost. Twice.”

~*~

Their second date was much similar to their first and their third and fourth and many more came quickly.

Along with memories of Gandalf and his many dalliances in affairs not his own, they traded information of their pasts, their family, fond stories of youthful days, and random tidbits of an interesting fact here and there. Bilbo had learned of her company, Lonely Mountain Mining, passed from generation to generation in her family, of her younger, widowed sister, Dis, who worked as a military nurse with two sons of her own and her brother, Frerin, who had died suddenly in his teens, of her aversion to French people due to a bad encounter with one “dumb bastard” from her youth, and of her great love of gemstones. In turn she had been told of his parents and their great love from two very different families, of his life as an adventurous young lad, looking for fairies in the forest, and of how he came to own a bookshop and teahouse, Bag End, after the death of his parents in his early adulthood.

They had grown incredibly fond of each other in their time together though they fought like cats and dogs on nearly everything. Among their shared friends a betting pool was created on whether or not the two would last. Gandalf had gladly taken part in that pool.

~*~

One night, on a stroll to Bag End for an anniversary dinner, Azog appeared.

Thraís was paralyzed in her shock, staring at the man that had murdered her grandfather before her, standing there. He should have been in prison, why wasn’t he in prison—  
Azog surged forward, set on Thraís, a terrifyingly pale visage of seven feet vengeance, until something threw him off his path. Something that was barely five foot seven with honey-blond curls named Bilbo. Thraís at the man she could claim she loved fought off a man two feet taller than him all to ensure her safety. 

She felt herself fall to the pavement and the world lit up in a flash of blue and red.

~*~

Thraís came too, sitting on a curb with a shock blanket around her shoulders and the police detaining Azog, no Bilbo in sight. She threw herself to her feet, wildly searching for any sign of Bilbo and saw him talking with a police officer, a bandage over his nose and his eyes starting to blacken. She ran to him, carelessly hugging him to her chest, and choking out, “I love you.”

~*~

It was that night that they made love for the first time, taking caution in Bilbo’s bruised ribs and Thraís’ sore head, and when she went into work the next morning with a hickey on her neck, well, no one said a thing.

~*~

The betting pool came to an end not too long after. Thraís walked into her office one day with no change, save only for a diamond ring that rested on her finger.  
Gandalf, the meddling wizard he was, collected his winnings with a smile.


End file.
